101 Challenge: Manifestations
by avearia
Summary: A oneshot challenge proposed by I-luv-Aang-Percy-Danny. Requests welcome. "1. Thoughts: Danny's little thoughts were becoming a big problem... and it was starting to scare him."
1. Introduction

101 Challenge – Manifestations

A oneshot challenge proposed by I-luv-Aang-Percy-Danny. I found the prompts interesting, and so even though the "contest" is over, I still would like to try my hand at them.

The prompts are as follows:

1. Thoughts

2. Pillow

3. Window

4. Light

5. Dark

6. Paper

7. Enemies

8. Hurt

9. Done

10. Pain

11. Closure

12. Sticker

13. Failure

14. Peace

15. Blanket

16. Plane

17. Ice-cream

18. Space

19. Animal

20. War

21. Stars

22. Tattoo

23. Shock

24. Storm

25. Lamp

26. Wall

27. Life

28. Lightning

29. Death

30. Money

31. Love

32. Envy

33. Betrayal

34. Aftermath

35. Capture

36. Revelation

37. Dread

38. Knowledge

39. Computer

40. Food

41. Crayon

42. Accepting

43. Finger

44. Pencil

45. Kids

46. Sick

47. Normal

48. Hair

49. Paint

50. Dance

51. Time

52. Cry

53. Help

54. Ghost

55. Hatred

56. Hunt

57. Denial

58. Sing

59. Music

60. Glasses

61. Loser

62. White

63. Black

64. Rainbow

65. Kiss

66. Sister

67. Water

68. Flames

69. Glow

70. Celebrity

71. Freak

72. Torture

73. Game

74. Goodbye

75. Box

76. Ring

77. Cape

78. Sweater

79. Bell

80. Necklace

81. Book

82. Test

83. School

84. Angel

85. Invincible

86. Vulnerable

87. Invisible

88. Weakness

89. Table

90. Key

91. Ride

92. Sorry

93. Unforgiveness

94. Identity

95. Fall

96. Noise

97. Silence

98. In-between

99. End

100. Fear

101. Flight

I will be doing them in order. Or at least, I'll try.

The oneshots will range from ratings K to T (no M or MA: lemons, torture, extreme violence, or whatnot—just not my style.) I write in all genres, from humor to horror, adventure to mystery, action to angst, and more. I am also a multishipper, who is prone to writing whatever romance fits the story at the time, het, slash, or otherwise.

I will post the prompt, rating, pairings, genre, and summary at the beginning of each chapter so you'll know what you're getting into. Be warned; some of these "oneshots" will end in cruel cliffhangers. They're kind of my specialty.

I do occasionally take requests if they strike my fancy (does anyone have suggestions for "dark"? I'm kinda stumped…) so don't be afraid to ask. Finally, I update a bit slowly, on my own time, because I've got a job and a life. Danny Phantom is my favorite fandom, however, and I'll do my best to keep updates regular… especially if it turns out that people really like this collection. You may or may not. We'll see.

Anyway, enough of an introduction, please enjoy my oneshots, and tell me what you think.

_Keeping the Phandom alive, _

~Avearia


	2. 1 Thoughts

101 Challenge from I-luv-Aang-Percy-Danny - 6/26/2012

1. Thoughts  
Rating: T  
Genre: Drama, Angst, Psychological Horror (wtf? I never write horror…)  
Pairings: Dash/Paulina  
Summary: Danny's little thoughts were becoming a big problem.

* * *

_I could kill him if I wanted to. _

When this thought idly crossed Danny Fenton's mind, sounding as innocent as though he'd just thought about his homework or the weather, the boy froze in his tracks.

Danny's ice blue eyes fixed on the 'him' in question; Dash Baxter, who'd elbowed past Danny only seconds before to cut to the front of the lunch line, causing Danny to drop his tray. Dash was now busy flirting with Paulina, running a free hand through his gelled blonde hair smugly as he talked.

_Life without Dash would be a lot easier. _Another thought slipped past Danny's mind, yet he had no idea where these thoughts were coming from. The boy immediately knew he had to get out of the room before he did something he'd regret. Put distance between himself and Dash—maybe the weird thoughts would stop.

Danny abandoned his spot in line, making a brisk walk towards the exit. Unfortunately that involved walking past Dash. "He, Fen-Turd!" the Jock called, intent on belittling the school loser to gain points with his girlfriend. "Where are you off to in a hurry? Forget your _dress _in your locker?"

"Not now, Dash," Danny said, controlling his tone of voice as much as possible.

_Crack his head open first, of course, see if there's anything inside. _A voice that sounded like Danny but was very un-Danny-like echoed in his head. Danny certainly had no intention on hurting Dash, much less killing him. Still, the voice sounded so… clear.

Frightened, Danny kept right on walking, eyes glued on the door.

Dash, who was clearly not used to being ignored, frowned and followed. "What did you say, Fenton?"

_Though if I do that I can't mount his head like a trophy. _"Leave me alone." Two steps to the door.

Dash caught up to him right as Danny opened the door. With a burst of effort, the blonde shoved Danny, causing him to stumble into the hallway. "Make me!" Dash said.

_Maybe I should take his arms first. Is it hard to rip a person limb-from-limb?_

Danny regained his balance, rubbing his arm. He refused to look at Dash, and instead turned desperately down the hallway, hoping Dash would get bored and go away. "I'm serious Dash, leave."

_It might be fun just to break his arms a few times instead. _

Dash was never a very good listener. "You're such a baby, Fenton!" he said loudly.

They continued to walk down the hallway, pushing past the sparse crowds of students gathered along the walls. Dash continued baiting Danny—and the thoughts in Danny's head continued to get more bizarre and morbid.

"Why are you such a loser?"

_So frail, humans. _

"Your whole family is a bunch of losers."

_Their skin is so thin, and their bones so brittle… _

"And _freaks," _Dash added, "Ghost hunting freaks!"

_I can snap their necks with the flick of my wrist. I wonder—_

"But you, by far, are the freakiest!"

—_what would happen if I just… grabbed his face and… squeezed. _

"Fenton!"

Despite his best efforts, Danny Fenton simply could not block out the strange thoughts. An image of Dash, screaming as his skull slowly fractured beneath Danny's vice-like grip, flickered through his mind.

And so Danny, desperate, did something that he would regret for months to come.

He pivoted on his foot and walked into the councilor's office.

Even this didn't stop Dash. The jock paused for a moment, clearly surprised by Danny's actions, but stupidly followed him into the office. Which, again, wasn't the best idea on Dash's part.

Danny took no notice. His mind was set on one thing.

The waiting-room secretary looked up at his arrival. "Hello, do you have an appointme—"

"I'm going to kill Dash."

Both the Secretary and Dash stopped and stared, as though they couldn't believe that those words came out of Danny Fenton's mouth. In the silence, Danny's treacherous mind started to form another thought, and he cut it off immediately.

"I'm hearing voices in my head that are telling me to kill him, and if you don't do something about it _right now, _I'm going to do it." Danny said shortly.

The secretary continued to stare. Her phone began to ring, but she didn't even flinch at the sound.

Dash, behind him, was the one to break the silence. He barked a nervous laugh, his voice an octave too high. "Y-you're such a dweeb, Fenton. What are you talking about?"

_Fear. He's afraid. I—**like** that. _

"My parents don't have any pistols, but plenty of their gadgets would work on maiming a human being." Danny went on.

_Maiming. Yes! Yes! That would be so much better. He could suffer, he could scream—_

"And if not, guns are easy to buy." said Danny.

_I wouldn't need a gun. I could do it with my bare hands. I could do it with a **thought**. _

"Shut up, Fenton!" Dash yelled, panicked.

The secretary pressed down a button on her intercom. "James? You've got a visitor," she said in a strained voice.

A man's static-y voice buzzed in response. "But Stacy, I'm on my lunch break—" he began.

"I don't _care, _get your ass out here right _now!_" the secretary snapped, voice rising.

No reply came for a moment, and Danny idly wondered if the man had hung up, or left. _Or maybe he died. _

Then the door opened, revealing a middle aged man with sharp eyes and a rumpled tie stained with a splotch of mustard. "What, Stacy?" he asked, turning his eyes on Danny and Dash.

The secretary remained rigid, on-guard. "This young man needs your help."

"Help! This freak's beyond help!" Dash said.

Danny's eyes flashed, and he used his self-control to avoid eye contact. Instead, his eyes flickered downward, looking at the secretary's desk.

There was a bright pair of pointy scissors lying nearby.

_That looks promising. _

The secretary noticed Danny's gaze and quickly moved the scissors out of reach.

"Dash, I won't allow comments like that in this office," said the man. "If Danny needs to talk to me…"

"Oh sure! So the freak's allowed to issue death threats to me, but I can't say anything back?" Dash snapped.

_Scissors could cut out his tongue. He'd stop talking._

The man looked sharply at Danny. "_Death _threats?" he repeated.

Danny remained silent. If only the voice in his head would do the same.

_Pluck out eyeballs. Yank out fingernails. Puncture ear drums. _

"Damn right! He threatened to maim me!"

_Maim. Torture. Kill. _

"And-and now he's just standing there being quiet. Like a _freak!_"

_MIAIM. TORTURE. KILL. KILL. **KILL**. _

"Dammit, Fenton! _Say something, already!_" Snapped Dash, thoroughly freaked out. He curled his hands into fists, raising his throwing-arm and winding up to strike.

Danny sensed the danger and whipped around just as Dash lashed out. Quick as lighting, Danny's hand darted out and caught Dash's arm mid-punch, stopping him dead. Dash tried to jerk away, but Danny's stony grip was locked tight around Dash's fist. For a second, their eyes met; Danny's cold, Dash's full of anger and fear.

Then, Danny flicked his wrist.

_**SNAP.**_

Under Danny's grip, Dash's arm jerked, and his wrist twisted unnaturally. Dash let out a blood-curdling scream, clutching his wrist and falling to the floor. Danny released him, standing numbly over the jock as he writhed. Dash's wrist was askew; he wouldn't be beating up kids or playing football any time soon.

Both adults just stayed frozen in their spots, eyes wide. Neither dared move a muscle.

Slowly, Danny turned back around, eyes cast downwards. He raised his hands and rested them on the secretary's desk, clutching it for support.

"I'd like some help now, please," he said quietly.

As if broken from a trance, both adults twitched and blinked. The man walked forward—stumbled, really—giving Danny a wide berth as he motioned to his office in the back. "T-t-take a seat, I'll b-be with you in a minute."

For the longest time, Danny didn't move. Then, moving slowly and deliberately, he released the desk, put his arms at his side, and walked one measured step at a time towards the office.

Before he shut the door, he heard the man order the secretary to call an ambulance, and the truant officer. Dash was still crying like a baby on the floor.

Shutting the door didn't stop the noise, only muffled it. Once alone, Danny looked at his hands.

A moment. It could've all been over in a moment. Snapping Dash's wrist had been pure instinct, the Phantom that took over in ghost fights. Instead of snapping a wrist, it could've been his arm, or his neck. He'd probably ended Dash's football career for the year—he _could've _ended Dash's _life. _

This was a terrifying reality. These thoughts, these terrible, morbid thoughts, though they didn't sound like anything Danny would _ever _say—they spoke the truth.

Danny _could _kill Dash if he wanted to.

Slowly, trembling, Danny lowered himself into the counseling chair, sitting on the edge of the seat, politely folding his quivering hands in his lap. And there, he waited patiently, with rigid self-control, trying to clear his thoughts. One dark sentence echoed through his mind, though, leaving him numb.

_That was fun. I should do this again sometime. _


End file.
